


You're the only one who can make me pray.

by C_Ell



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, F/F, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Vampire Hunter Clarke, Vampire Lexa, Vampires, Werewolves, i mean what do you expect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:46:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8458864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_Ell/pseuds/C_Ell
Summary: Clarke was captured by the very vampires she hunted for a living. Trapped in a cell with one of the bloodsucking beasts, she slowly realized that the only way they would get out was together.
But what then? And what would the others say if she came home with a vampire, one who had been imprisoned by her own kind?--She crept towards the huddled girl.“You startled me,” she said quietly, trying not to spook her only potential ally. “Are… are you okay?”At her words, the girl looked up, piercing emerald eyes glaring at Clarke. At first, she thought it was anger, but as she slowed her approach they flashed red. No, not anger; Hunger. Shit.





	1. One

Clarke felt herself being half carried, half dragged across a stone floor. Her breath came in ragged pants as she tried to rouse herself from unconsciousness. The cloth hood over her face darkened the world around her as she was roughly manhandled. When it was finally pulled from her head, the cool air relieved her flush skin even as she was thrown into a cell. With her hands bound, the concrete rushed up to meet her, checked only by her shoulder as she landed with a heavy thud. Clarke glared at her captors, but they only laughed haughtily at her as they turned away. She tried to throw herself at them, but they were out of the cell and locking the door before she even steadied herself.

A growl tore from her throat as she rushed at the door, slamming her uninjured shoulder against the iron bars. As iron was wont to do, it didn’t budge. Huffing in frustration, Clarke slumped down against the door. Her shoulder throbbed, and her hands being tied behind her back didn’t help much either. Her entire body ached from the fight, and yet, she was alive. Why the hell was she alive?

At a noise from behind her, she leapt to her feet, with as much grace as allowed by her bound hands. In the back corner of the cell, there was what looked to be a girl, slumped against the wall. She crept towards the huddled girl.

“You startled me,” she said quietly, trying not to spook her only potential ally. “Are… are you okay?”

At her words, the girl looked up, piercing emerald eyes glaring at Clarke. At first, she thought it was anger, but as she slowed her approach they flashed red. No, not anger; _Hunger_. Shit. Clarke scrambled back pushing herself as far as she could into the opposite corner.

“You’re one of them.” She said, her voice shaking as she realized why she was here. “That’s the reason they kept me alive. To feed you. Isn’t it?”

The other girl, no, the creature she was trapped with remained silent, eyes averted downward, hidden behind brown wavy hair. Clarke scoffed.

“Figures. I spend my whole life protecting my people, fighting you, your kind. And now what am I? A glorified juice box.” Her laugh was humorless as she leaned her head back against the wall. “I would have hoped to at least die in battle. Well, what are you waiting for? Your meal awaits.”

The creature said nothing. Well, it seemed that she was in for a long night, she figured she may as well get comfortable. Getting to her feet, she crouched in the corner, rolling her shoulders back as she pressed her hands downward. She was just shy of getting them past her torso. Frowning, she clenched her jaw and yanked at her arm, a sickening pop, and a lance of pain through her shoulder told her that she’d done it right. With her right arm dislocated, she managed to pull her arms around herself to her front. She pulled her bonds up to her face, teeth tearing at the rope fibers until they came undone. Sighing in relief, she rubbed the wrist of her hurt arm before moving upwards and feeling at her shoulder. Time to see if that time with her mother had any use at all.

She felt around, then lined up the joint, grunting as she pushed it back into place. The ache subsided some, but that wasn’t something she wanted to try again. Clarke rolled her shoulders, trying to gauge if she had ruined her joint. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be too damaged. When she looked up as she settled against the wall, Clarke noticed green eyes staring at her, the creatures head tilted as if in curiosity.

“What?” she said, “I was just trying to get comfortable before you kill me.”

And of course, there was no response. Clarke tucked her knees into her chest and sagged her head forward. Might as well try to get some sleep. Her mind drifted to the others, God they had to be worried. Or dead. Her mouth went dry, heart rate speeding up. No, they had to be alive. She’d stayed back to hold off the attack, but they had to have gotten out. Right?

“You can say it.”

Clarke jumped, staring at the form huddled in the opposite corner. Did… did it just speak? Another moment confirmed it.

“You’ve been avoiding that word since you’ve been in here. You know what to call me.” The voice was soft but had an air of authority. And yet, underlying it all, it sounded almost… sad. “Say it.”

“Which one,” Clarke spat, “Vampire? Or Monster?”

She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath from the vampire, but that didn’t make sense. They didn’t need to breathe. Nor did they feel. Clarke’s barbs wouldn’t hurt the creature.

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? From the Ark.”

“I guess you could say that.” Clarke didn’t particularly want to answer, but she found the words coming out anyway. After a few moments of silence, Clarke tried to settle back in, but the vampire spoke again.

“You don’t wear their typical garb.” Clarke heard the silent question.

“I left.”

The answer was short, snappy. The kind that always ended a conversation. As the silence stretched on, she was left to reflect on her impending death at the hands of her conversation partner.

“Why?” It was soft, almost too soft to hear, but the question was there. Clarke sighed.

“Look are you going to eat me, or what?” she snapped, when she met the vampire’s gaze, she was met with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Clarke felt her face burn, “That came out wrong. But my point stands. If I’m going to die, fucking get it over with. Didn’t anybody teach you it’s rude to play with your food?”

There was a sound of what may have been amusement from the other side of the room.

“I don’t intend to kill you.”

“From that look in your eyes, I don’t think your _intent_ is particularly consequential.” Clarke was surprised at the declaration. The idea that a vampire would control themselves from feeding on a defenseless human was quite… alien to those who Clarke had come into contact with prior to this moment. Then again, she hadn’t necessarily had time for a sit-down chat like she was having now.

“Then allow me to rephrase myself,” she, no _it_ , said, “I am not going to kill you, nor feed from you. I have more control of myself than that.”

“So what, you’ll just starve yourself?”

The vampire didn’t answer, and Clarke huffed. “Fantastic, I get to be the juice box to the unwilling vampire. Guess I have to rot alongside you, I doubt they’ll feed me.”

Clarke resigned herself to a long night as she dropped her head back to her knees, trying to get some semblance of rest. God knew she’d need it if she were going to survive long enough to try to escape. Even against the cold concrete, she slowly drifted into a light sleep. Some time later, she was awoken to hushed but frantic voices. Discretely shifting in her place, she looked toward the door, seeing the vampire from before looking like she was having a conversation with the door.

She couldn’t make out any of the words, and what she did hear was in a harsh language she had never heard before. When whoever was outside of the door spoke, her voice was louder. She managed to pick out a word that sounded like “Heda” and another strange word that sounded like “Azgeda.” She wracked her brain, trying to remember anything about ancient and modern languages, but the words still seemed like gibberish. The vampire in her cell cut off the other one. This time, she managed to hear the words.

“ _Em pleni_ , _Onya._ Leave, before they see you!"

The vampire turned away from the door and walked back over to the corner where she had been sitting before. Clarke took the time to take stock of the creature with whom she was trapped. She moved with purpose, but also with that grace so characteristic of vampires. Clarke’s eyes began to wander over the vampire’s face and body, but she quickly put a stop to that. Vampire, she reminded herself, this is the vampire to whom she is a walking prison meal.

“I know that you’re awake.” The vampire said, slowly sitting against the other wall, “But if you like, I will allow you to pretend until you fall back asleep.”

Clarke lifted her head, leaning it against the back wall as she glared at the vampire through her lower lashes.

“Your breathing changed patterns when you awoke.” The vampire continued.

“So,” Clarke said, taking the time to stretch her arms, wincing when her shoulder moved in a particularly uncomfortable way, “You have friends outside. What’d you do anyway, to get locked up?” She almost balked as the vampire tensed and glared at her. “Alright, so we won’t continue that line of questioning… Do you have a name, at least? I’d like to know whose meal I get to be.”

After a few moments of hesitation, the vampire spoke. “My name is Lexa.”

“Lexa,” she moved towards the vampire, holding out her hand to shake, “I’m Clarke.”

“It may be wise of you to stay back if you don’t want your glib comments to come true, Clarke.” Lexa said, pushing herself back against the concrete wall, “I haven’t eaten in… quite some time.”

Clarke nodded, shifting back into her corner of the cell. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing, talking to the vampire, to Lexa. She hunted vampires, that was her job, her duty. She was one of the few who stood between the creatures of the night and the human race, and yet here she was, talking to one of them. Hell, she’d almost shook hands with one of the very things she swore to destroy. But at least Lexa was someone to talk to, and in the days leading up to her death, Clarke figured she deserved at least that.

“So… I’ve never had a conversation with a vampire long enough to ask. Is it taboo to ask about how you… how you turned?” Clarke kept her eyes on Lexa as she spoke, watching as the vampire tensed up, “Okay, I guess that answers my question. But can I at least ask about the process?”

“You ask a lot of questions. And you ask the kinds of questions which I cannot answer.”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be curious if you ran into an enemy of which your knowledge is primarily oriented around fighting? I don’t know anything about your culture beyond what… We’ve learned.” Clarke was hesitant to give away how much information she had on vampire culture, and suddenly she saw the vampire’s point. “Okay, fair point. We probably shouldn’t talk about that stuff.”

Lexa hummed in agreement, shifting to sit upright. “Okay then,” Clarke said, “What kind of music do you listen to?” Lexa just stared at her for a moment, blinking, and Clarke felt her face heat, “What?”

Then the vampire burst into laughter. It wasn’t particularly loud, but the giggles coming from the other side of the room slowly brought a smile to Clarke’s face. “You, a human, a vampire hunter, are currently locked in a vampire prison, with a vampire prisoner,” Lexa said, shaking her head, “and you decide to ask my taste in music?”

“Yeah, well, I need some way to pass the time, don’t I?” Clarke crossed her arms defensively.

“Well, if you must know, I listen to primarily classical music.”

“That’s so Cliché. Don’t you listen to anything from this century?”

“Well, there was a pretty good band that played at an event I attended not too many years ago.”

“Wait… Like a vampire event? Are there vampire bands?”

“Of course there are, Clarke.” Lexa said, “I’m sure you’ve heard of My Chemical Romance.”

If Clarke had been drinking at the moment, she would have spat it across the room in an awfully dramatic expression of surprise. Instead, she simply gaped at Lexa. Then she noticed the smirk on the vampire’s lips. “Did you just…was that a joke? Did the dark bloodsucking vampire prisoner to her own people just make a joke?”

“Mockery is not the product of a strong mind, Clarke.”

“Don’t you fucking speak to me about mockery.” She shook her head, smiling, “My Chemical Romance… you know, for a second there, I almost believed you.”

“I was going to say, what was that band name… Vampire Weekend?” Lexa looked at her questioningly and Clarke nodded, “but that seemed a bit too blatant.” Clarke opened her mouth to say something, but Lexa cut her off with a hiss, “Guards are coming. Don’t let them hear you talk to me.”

“What?” Clarke tried to keep her voice low, “I don’t—why can’t I—” She snapped her mouth shut as the door swung open, heeding Lexa’s advice. The guards hardly spared her a glance as they entered, purposefully approaching Lexa, who stared back expressionless. A boot lashed out, catching Lexa in the ribs, and but for the huff of air escaping her lungs, she didn’t react. The guards smirked, grabbing her under the arms. One of them spotted Clarke as he was dragging Lexa up. He snarled at her, and Clarke shrank back. The guard laughed and said something in what Clarke guessed to be the same language from before.

“ _Shof op._ ” The other one growled, “We have the disgrace, the queen will want her.”

Clarke slumped as they left the room, finally letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She was worried. What if they killed the vampire? There was a small part of her that feared for the person whose conversation she’d been enjoying, but her pragmatic side saw the true danger of being left in the cell alone. Lexa hadn’t killed her and said that she didn’t intend to. Clarke couldn’t be certain of her motives, but it seemed her odds were better with Lexa than those if she were locked in a cell with a different starving vampire. The thought made her shudder. But that wasn’t even the most pressing issue, Clarke realized. She wasn’t sure when she had last drank, but it had been far too long, and her stomach was aching and empty.

She doubted that her captors would feed her, and even if they did, she shuddered to think of what they would provide as food were she to ask. No. She had a timeline. Hopefully they would bring Lexa back and she’d have some of her worries cleared, but until then, she needed to think of a way out. She was still battered from the capture, and after about a day of no food or water, she would be even weaker. Even if she had a weapon, even if she had _her_ weapons, there was little guarantee that Clarke could hold her own in a fight. She tried to remember the movements that had brought her to the cell, but she had been groggy and her memory was too fuzzy.

The next hour saw Clarke agonizing over any possible way of escape, but she just couldn’t see it. Regardless of being able to escape the compound, much less find her way in the region, she had no way of even escaping the cell. She curled in on herself, a position which had become her standard these days. For a moment she felt tears prick in the corners of her eyes, but she shoved the possibility away. She would not cry, that much she knew. She slowly drifted off into a fitful sleep, dreams filled with dark rooms and crimson rivers.

 

When the cell door slammed opened, Clarke’s head snapped up, eyes locking on the battered figure between the guards. One of them sneered at her as they threw Lexa’s body into the cell. The vampire hardly reacted, grunting as she landed on the concrete, but staying there. The guards smirked and closed the door. Clarke listened to their footsteps recede down the hall before rushing to the collapsed vampires side.

Something in her burned as she saw the injuries littered across Lexa’s body. The clothes that she had been wearing when Clarke arrived weren’t particularly clean, but they had been intact and had seemed decent enough, but now they had been nearly reduced to rags. Lexa’s arms were crisscrossed with thin red lines, and burns littered her skin. Upon further inspection, Clarke realized that they must have branded her with silver, maybe even holy water. She clenched her jaw, rage simmering in her gut. Sure she had killed vampires, enjoyed it even, but Lexa had been kind to her. And Clarke never _tortured_ them. She couldn’t fathom the cruelty of the people who had done this to Lexa.

But then another thought struck her. Lexa wasn’t just freshly injured, it looked like they had been at her for some time, but none of the wounds seemed to be healing. Vampires had accelerated healing, Clarke knew this. Even silver and holy water didn’t do that much lasting damage. And she’d read that some of the old ones could regrow a severed arm in minutes. But Lexa wasn’t.

Blood, Clarke realized. Lexa was starving, she wasn’t even sure how long it had been since the vampire had fed, but from the gaunt pale skin on the vampire’s face, she figured it must have been far too long now. And now, not only was the vampire starving, but she was severely injured. She kneeled next to the unconscious vampire for some time, turning the thoughts over in her head. Well. She was dead anyway.

“Lexa.” She said loudly, looking down at the vampire. Nothing. “Well, here goes…” she brought her hand up and slapped the vampire in the face. “Lexa, get up!” The vampire groaned and stirred. Clarke pulled her sleeve up from her wrist, swallowing. “You’re starving. You have to feed.”

Lexa’s eyes opened slowly, then widened in shock and fear, trying to push herself away, but collapsing back on her arms. “Clarke? No, you have to get away.” She said.

“Lexa, shut up.” Clarke said, “You’re hurt, you’re starving, you aren’t healing. You need food.” She held out her wrist. “Here.” As Lexa stared at her, she pushed herself forward, shoving her arm towards the vampire’s lips. “Listen, I’m dead anyway, it’s not like they’re feeding me. Just don’t drain me dry.”

Lexa’s eyes flicked between Clarke’s and her wrist. Clarke could see the restrained hunger in her features, but there was something else, almost imperceptible, but there. Before she could pinpoint it, Lexa surged forward, fangs darting out and latching onto her wrist.

A sharp pain pulled a cry from Clarke’s lips before she could stop herself, but before long it soothed into a dull ache. The sensation was strange, to say the least, alien and somewhat uncomfortable. As Lexa continued to feed, Clarke tried to ignore the soft noises coming from her wrist. After a moment, it felt like Lexa was humming against her wrist. She realized that the feeling of feeding was not entirely unpleasant, once she had gotten over the initial shock. Clarke’s eyelids fluttered closed as she felt a wave of comfort wash over her. A warm, somewhat tingling feeling spread from her wrist. She saw stars. Even as she sat on a cold concrete floor, Clarke wavered, she felt as if she rose out of her body, flying in the evening sky. Clarke gasped as she felt Lexa shift against her.

The sound seemed to shatter the moment as Lexa’s eyes flew open and she tore herself away, scarlet dripping from her lips, a matching color covering Clarke’s lower forearm. Clarke smiled at her faintly, not registering the panic in her gaze as her own eyes remained glazed over.

“Oh my god,” Lexa whispered frantically, “I am so sorry. I—I don’t know what happened, it’s—it’s been so long since I— and I shouldn’t have— and then I fell into old habits. I don’t know why I—I’m sorry!”

Clarke smiled at her lazily. Lexa was so nice, and everything was so warm. Her head lolled forward, “S’Okay,” she muttered as she fell forward, forehead butting against Lexa’s shoulder, “Felt Nice.” Her eyes felt heavy, and as she leaned against the cool, sturdy body of her cellmate, she felt only comfort.

“No, Clarke, you don’t get it. And now your…” Lexa sighed, Clarke just listened happily to the sound of her voice, the words fading away, “Well, it’s no use explaining now, is it? Here, let me clean you up.” Clarke’s eyes opened as she felt Lexa shifting her, and the sight nearly broke through the haze. Lexa lapped at her arm, her tongue wiping away the crimson ichor. She punctured her thumb with a fang, a drop of dark blood, Clarke would have sworn it was black, growing on the pad of her finger. Lexa wiped her own blood over the punctures on Clarke’s arm, the wounds closing rapidly as the dark fluid faded into her pale skin. “There, all clean”

“Y’missed a spot” Clarke slurred, eyes locked on the drop of scarlet that was still working its way down Lexa’s chin.

“Where?” The vampire looked at her confused. Clarke leaned forward, something strange compelling her to taste the blood that dribbled from the corner of Lexa’s mouth.

She missed. Her head falling instead against Lexa’s chest. “Mouth,” she mumbled into the vampire’s shirt and sighed, “Comfy.”

Before she heard the response, darkness closed around her, pulling her into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I should finish "I'm lying on the cold hard ground..." but I really don't care to.
> 
> I had vampires stuck in my head, and I'm not feeling any of my ideas for NaNoWriMo, so instead I decided to write this in honor of it. I technically cheated and wrote 1k on the 31st, but I was intending to get this up yesterday.
> 
> Also, yes, the title is meant to be read either pray or prey, but I can't figure out a good format for it.


	2. Two

Clarke was slowly roused from the darkness, hushed voices pulling her from the depths of sleep. One of the better rests she’d had in some time, mind you. She tried to pick out the words, but her head was foggy, it felt like she’d been up all night drinking. Where was she, anyway? She tried to open her eyes, but they were too heavy. It took a moment of thought, but the cold concrete under her back reminded her. The cell, the vampires. Lexa. Her wrist. Azure eyes flew open, Clarke immediately jumping to her feet. Vertigo washed over her, and her legs turned to jelly beneath her. She winced, preparing for the impact with the hard floor. Instead, she found herself steadied by strong hands. A cold washed over her as she looked up, eyes locking with the green gaze.

Lexa looked…better. Far better than when she had come back from the torture chambers, and well, Clarke thought she looked healthier even that she had before that. Gaunt cheeks had filled out, pale skin warmed until it looked almost healthy for a human. Lexa’s eyes still held hunger, and she looked tired, but it was less uncanny. As she was now, Lexa was striking. But still a vampire. Clarke stepped backward, her legs unsteady, but she braced herself against the wall.

“I’m sorry.” Lexa began, “You may still be feeling after effects.”

“What happened?”

“You asked me to feed from you. I—I got carried away.” Lexa looked pained, “It’s…been a long time since I fed from a human, and I guess I fell into old habits.” Clarke tilted her head in confusion. “When we feed,” Lexa looked sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand, “A lot of vampires, usually the experienced ones, we can sooth our… victims,” she flinched at the word, “Combined with blood loss, particularly when we feed a lot, it can have quite the effect. It feels like you’re drunk, and you usually have… pleasant feelings towards the vampire. It wears off after sleeping, and it’ll feel like a dream most of the time. I guess it’s kind of a form of compulsion.”

Clarke nodded. “So you did that to me?”

Lexa rubbed her neck again, refusing to make eye contact, “I—you… I haven’t fed in a while, and not from a human in… decades. You tasted good, and I guess I got carried away.” Clarke had to look away, her face feeling heated. She slumped against the wall. “Sorry, that probably sounded awful. I’ve never really had to have this conversation.”

“Yeah. Let’s just not. If it’s any comfort, neither have I.” She smiled wryly.

“That’s probably wise.” Lexa turned back towards the door, and Clarke remembered that she had heard someone talking, two voices actually. “Oh, and Clarke?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Are you done with your heart to heart or what?” A voice came through the door, as Clarke nearly jumped out of her skin. Her head swam. She was really quite exhausted, and her stomach ached like nothing else. Her mouth was dry, and her throat felt like sandpaper. She was surprised that she’d gone this long without noticing it.

“Anya, it has to be now.” Lexa said, glancing back at Clarke. She creased her brow as she saw Clarke’s pallor. “My friend from the outside.” She jerked her head to the door, which promptly burst open. There stood another vampire, taller than Lexa, and her presence sent a chill down her spine. She looked almost feral, dirty blonde hair wreathing her head. Her eyes looked like a dark maroon, briefly glancing over Clarke before grabbing Lexa’s arm.

“Well, I’m glad you got yourself a snack.” She growled, and turned to leave, making to drag Lexa out, “but we have to go. They’ll have heard that.”

“Not without her.” Lexa said, not moving.

“What? Oh come on, Heda, you have to be kidding me. Her?” the vampire, Anya, gestured at Clarke, “You mean the half-starved human who you practically drained dry?” Lexa only glared. Anya sighed and walked over to Clarke. “And I suppose you want me to carry her too. Fine. Hold tight, blondie.”

Clarke’s head spun as she was lifted into a cold embrace, held in strong arm. She focused on not throwing up on the vampire, she shouldn’t give her a reason to hate her. She gripped tightly to the vampire’s leather jacket, heeding her advice as they left the room, Anya and Lexa speaking every so often. Clarke just tried not to notice that they were running far faster than any human could, and that Anya seemed entirely unhindered by carrying Clarke. They passed through a labyrinth of tunnels, occasionally running into a guard or two. Clarke kept her eyes averted as Lexa dispatched them with startling efficiency for someone who had been starving in a cell just the day before. She guessed that the prisoner probably had some latent rage to exercise, Clarke knew that she did.

As they exited the caves, Anya stopped them, opening a small storage closet nearby. Inside were two backpacks, along with a black overcoat. Anya handed the overcoat and one of the bags to Lexa, who rummaged inside for a moment and shrugged on the coat, a satisfied smirk growing on her face.

“I thought you’d appreciate that.” Anya said, “Alright, time to go. We can drop the human at a hospital and wipe her memory then hit up a blood bank.”

Lexa glared at her, and while Clarke wasn’t the target, she shuddered in Anya’s arms. “No, we won’t be doing that.” Anya glared back.

“Heda, you can’t be seriously thinking of taking her with us?”

“I’m not thinking it, I’m doing it. She probably saved my life, Anya, I have to repay her somehow. She doesn’t have to come with us, but we should at least help her get back on her feet.” Lexa pulled a bottle of water from the bag, “Good thing you like to drink water,” she said handing it to Clarke, who took it gratefully and began taking small sips. “And don’t call me Heda. I’m not anymore.”

“Okay then, Seken.” Anya smirked, “but understand this: no matter what that bitch did to you, you are Heda, not her.”

Clarke felt uncomfortable being held in Anya’s arms while they just stood there talking, but she didn’t want to interrupt. She was, however, glad that Lexa had opposed the idea of dropping her at a hospital doorstep and wiping her memory. A dehydrated girl with muddy clothes, bruises everywhere and missing half her blood with no visible puncture wounds? That sounded like it would prompt questions.

“Give me a weapon,” Clarke said, deciding that it was time she interject. “I can fight.”

“You can hardly stand, blondie. I’m not optimistic about your fighting at the moment.”

“Clarke, we’ll be fine.” Lexa reassured her. Clarke only gritted her teeth.

They resumed their exit of the compound, moving more slowly. Clarke eventually grew sick of small sips and simply downed the rest of the water, and was left holding a plastic bottle while gripping to Anya. She didn’t think they ran into much resistance, and was surprised, but with how efficiently Lexa was able to take care of anybody they did meet, she figured that Anya had cleared the way.

That changed as they exited the compound. It was late evening, the horizon streaked with dark purple as they broke out into the cool air. They had apparently been imprisoned beneath an abandoned warehouse. Clarke guessed that it was a pretty effective place for a vampire prison, as they probably didn’t want to keep the prisoners too close to wherever they were based. Especially if it was a city. Her thoughts were cut short as she realized that they weren’t alone. Dark figures glided from the woods, approaching them slowly. One broke off from the rest, walking confidently forward.

“I imagined you would try something like this,” The figure, a woman, said. Vampire, Clarke corrected herself, this was no woman. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice your loyal lapdog sniffing around?” As the vampire came closer, Clarke made out her features. Her blonde hair, almost white, was pulled back from her face, which had an elegant ferocity to it. She wasn’t feral, but had something truly predatory in the way she stalked towards them, fangs bared and crimson eyes almost glowing. As she grew even closer, the air around them dropped in temperature. Clarke shuddered. She was strong, and old. Very old. This was bad. The other dark shapes moved forward to encircle them.

“Nia,” Lexa growled. Clarke realized that not all of the figures were vampires. Some were more hunched and animal. Werewolves, she realized as one of them came into visibility. They were somewhere between human and beast, not fully transformed, but enough to have claws and wolfish features.

“Oh, and you brought your meal with you.” The vampire said, Nia, Clarke assumed. “I should have guessed you’d be weak. Oh but she looks pretty pale.” Nia mock gasped, “Oh no, Lexa you didn’t feed from her did you? Your precious human?” Lexa only bared her fangs. The air around them dropped another few degrees as Lexa’s eyes flashed. Clarke swallowed and shivered. Nia smirked. “Alright, I tire of this. Kill them.”

The vampires and werewolves around them charged forward, as Nia simply watching. The closest creature to them, a werewolf, Lexa immediately downed, shoving her hand right through its chest. Clarke’s eyes widened as she watched it collapse to the ground. Then, they were fighting. Anya was doing her best to guard Clarke while taking care of their enemies but was mostly on the defensive. Clarke’s eyes widened as she saw another werewolf approaching from behind. Anya was too busy contending with a vampire, and Clarke grit her teeth. This is why she needed a knife. She looked down, realizing that Anya had one strapped to her thigh. Reaching down, Clarke pulled it out, inspecting the blade quickly, feeling it’s weight. She took a breath to steady her vision, then threw it. The knife plunged into the werewolf’s eye with a wet thunk, followed by a hiss as the silver burnt its flesh. The wolf howled, collapsing to the ground. The howl died out as it stopped moving.

“Nice aim, blondie.” Anya said, smirking at her, “guess I didn’t need to give you a weapon.”

“It would still be nice to have one.” Clarke said, “Put me down, you can’t fight like this.”

Anya sighed, but complied, pulling another knife from her belt and handing it to Clarke, who leaned against the wall. “The silver won’t kill a vampire outright, but it’ll slow them down until Lexa or I can take care of them.”

“I know; this isn’t my first,” Clarke smirked. Anya turned and swung a fist, dropping a nearby vampire. Clarke’s eyes widened at her strength. Sure Anya had been carrying her like it was nothing, but this seemed like child’s play to her.

“Nor is it mine.” The vampire winked conspiratorially.

While they continued to fight, Clarke occasionally having to use the knife, the enemies just kept coming. Lexa’s strength seemed to be waning, after all, she had been imprisoned for some time. The two vampires shared a glance and Anya scooped up Clarke. They were off like a shot, running from the battle. Clarke thought she heard Nia’s laughter behind them, and a sneered comment: “Let them go, they’ll be back.”

Clarke felt exhaustion weigh on her limbs as she held onto Anya, watching the trees blur around them. She let her mind wander to the future, only coming back to the present when they reached a highway. Clarke kept her eyes on the road, trying to get her bearings as they jogged alongside it, staying just inside the treeline. She caught a glance of an exit sign on the highway and groaned. They were in Pennsylvania. She didn’t know the area too well, but she knew that it meant they were likely more than 70 miles out from DC. Possibly even further. After thinking it over for a few minutes, she realized that it was probably for the best. She couldn’t very well show up half dead with two vampires, she knew how the others would react. She swallowed, pushing that thought aside. She would deal with them when the time came.

Clarke tried to ignore the hunger gnawing at her insides, but as time wore on, it became more and more prevalent. When they eventually spotted a diner, she sighed in relief.

“Alright, put me down,” she said, tugging on Anya’s sleeve. “I’m starved and that’s food.”

Lexa nodded in agreement, but Anya made no move to put her down. “Okay, we’ll stop,” Lexa said, “you do need some food. Let Anya carry you to the parking lot at least.”

“Fine, but I’m walking in on my own.” Clarke snapped, her hunger really starting to get to her.

“Okay, blondie,” Anya smirked and Clarke huffed.

The diner was old school, and mostly empty, though that probably had to do with the late hour, or the remote location. As Clarke led the way inside, she stumbled slightly but steadied herself before either of the two others tried to help. As a bell above the door rang softly, a waitress came rushing out of the back, barely sparing a glance at them as she grabbed some menus behind the bar.

“Hello,” she chirped, “Just grab a table anywhere, not many folks out tonight. I’ll grab you some waters.”

They mumbled thanks as the three shuffled into a booth by the window, Clarke sitting on one side, and Lexa and Anya sitting on the other. Lexa sat on the inside, pulling her coat tightly around her to cover her tattered clothes. Clarke self-consciously tugged at the sleeves of her leather jacket and brushed her hands on her jeans. She realized her hair was probably nasty from the days she had gone not washing it, and scooted further towards the window. The waitress came back, name tag reading Jen, and set down waters, and handed them the menus, eyes catching over Clarke and then Lexa. She smiled, tight-lipped, and told them that she would be right back for their orders. Clarke spent some time looking at the menu, but had a hard time focusing, when Jen came back, Anya spoke up.

“We’ll take two cheeseburgers, medium rare, with fries; two vanilla milkshakes, one chocolate; a short stack of pancakes and hash browns. Blondie, you want anything else.” Clarke shook her head. It seemed Anya had taken it upon herself to order for them. “Alright, well, we’ll let you know if we need anything else, but that’s all for now.”

Jen smiled at Anya, but seemed to refuse to look at either Clarke or Lexa. “Okay, I’ll get that started for you.”

When their milkshakes arrived, they sat in silence. Clarke took one of the vanilla ones, as did Lexa, though neither really had a choice as Anya had claimed the chocolate one immediately. Clarke tried to take it slow, occasionally sipping at it, knowing that it would be best not to eat all at once. When the food arrived, Anya just told Jen to put it in the middle, but as soon as she left, the vampires pushed it towards Clarke. She raised her eyebrows but took one of the burgers anyway. After a few small bites, with soft groans of appreciation, she had to give in and tear into it. She noticed Lexa and Anya picking at her fries, and decided to ask about it between bites.

“So everyone I’ve talked to disagrees.” She started, “Can you guys eat food?”

Anya looked at her, mortified, and looked to lecture her, but Lexa cut her off. “Yes and no. When you’re young, it’s pretty natural to keep eating, at least out of habit. Food isn’t nutritious to us, nor is it harmful. Some stop eating as they get older, some like to keep the habit. If you stop, especially at an old age, food starts to lose its appeal. Once the habit is broken, food often starts to taste like ash.” She nudged Anya with her elbow, “this one loves to eat. I do it every so often to keep the taste.” Clarke nodded, popping the last bit of burger into her mouth. She had practically inhaled it, but that only seemed to make her more aware of her hunger. She started on the pancakes.

“Can I ask more questions?”

“Will you stop if I say no?” Lexa quipped.

“Touché.” Clarke chewed thoughtfully, then asked, “So, you two dating?” Anya choked on her milkshake. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Sisters,” Lexa said, interjecting before Anya, who opened her mouth. “Not necessarily by living blood or sire, but that word most closely describes our relationship.”

“Yeah, something like that. I have to look out for this one.” Anya grumbled, “Always saving your life. Well, undeath.”

“Need I remind you of the many times I have lied to keep you out of trouble?” Lexa needled.

“That was your duty, Seken.”

“What does that word mean?” Clarke asked around a mouthful of hash brown. Lexa was the one who answered.

“It literally can translate to second, but it is similar to apprentice.” She explained, “Fledglings are sometimes given over to an older vampire for mentorship or a different perspective than their sire. Anya was my Fos, my mentor or first.”

“Interesting,” Clarke mused, “And what language is that? Weren’t the guards speaking something similar?”

“Yes, they were. It is called Trigedasleng. Some time ago, many among our ranks decided that we ought to have a language so as not to speak the language of humans. It is more commonly used among werewolves, but many vampires will speak it around humans to avoid giving away their intentions.” Anya shot Lexa a look, but before she spoke, Jen came out to refill their waters. They all fell silent, and Clarke swore she saw Jen looking her over with a slight sneer. She pushed her plate away, uncomfortable at the scrutiny. When the server left, Clarke looked to the two vampires.

“So, what’s next?” She asked, “You busted out of jail, where are you two headed. You can just drop me in a city and I’ll find my way back home.”

“No,” Lexa said, pushing the other burger towards Clarke, “We don’t have any intentions other than avoiding scrutiny. Allow us to help you back wherever you’re going, it is the least we can do.”

Clarke shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.” She said, “I mean, I would appreciate the help, but I don’t want you guys to carry me across the state. Besides, I know we didn’t really have much of a conversation about this, but I hunt your kind. Maybe you’re different, and I don’t mind your company, but I have friends, family really—like you and Anya—and I don’t know how much they would appreciate me bringing two to our doorstep.”

Lexa tilted her head, and Anya looked mostly unfazed. “Besides… I don’t really know if I should go back there.” She sighed, “I kind of…left in a hurry.”

“Clarke, if they are your family, then they are probably worrying after you.” Clarke shrugged, guilt gnawing at her insides like the hunger she had only just begun to sate. “You should return to them. And trust me, Anya and I can handle ourselves. We won’t linger in your territory if you don’t want us to, but I doubt your friends would do permanent damage.” Clarke nodded hesitantly, wanting to argue before she realized that she really didn’t know much about their capabilities, and wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted them to know hers. “Now eat that, at least some of it.” Lexa gestured at the final burger.

“You are right about one thing, blondie.” Anya spoke up, “I’m sick of carrying you, and you reek. Let’s call a cab and get to a hotel. We’ll settle the matter of your clothing tomorrow.”

Clarke threw a fry at the woman. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Anya only raised an eyebrow pointedly. Clarke sighed and picked at her burger. The trip home certainly wouldn’t be boring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean to make this longer, but I figured you all would rather an update today than tomorrow. I'm really enjoying writing this, I must say.
> 
> Your Kudos and Comments help to keep me writing as well, so thank you for those, and for reading in general.
> 
> I felt a bit rushed with some of the plot here, and dialogue exposition isn't my favourite strategy, but it also fit the characters' likely actions.


	3. Three

The cab ride was quiet. None among them knew what to say around normal folk. Besides, they’d already gotten a strange look from the driver for being in the middle of nowhere without a ride. The silence prevailed as Anya paid for two hotel rooms, handing one of the key cards to Clarke. As soon as she was alone inside the hotel room, she sighed in relief. As much as Lexa seemed bound to help her, and had never once tried to harm her, Clarke realized that she was still a bit on edge around the vampires. Now, in the safety and solitude of her hotel room, she finally could let her guard down. She peeled away her dirty clothes, layer by layer stripping away the grime that had accumulated of the last few days. Between her capture, imprisonment, and escape they had become rather foul.

As she stepped into the shower, hot water streaming down her body, she sighed, stretching her arms over her head. Flinching at the soreness in her shoulder, she lowered her arms and simply stood under the water. She scrubbed away the grime, using almost all of the soap, shampoo, and conditioner provided by the hotel. When she stepped out, slipping a fluffy white towel around herself, she felt almost human as long as she ignored the bruises that now littered her pale skin. Scratch that, it wasn’t the time for idioms regarding her humanity. She found an equally fluffy and soft robe in the closet, and pulled it on. Flipping on the TV for some background noise, she settled back into the bed, her body melting into the mattress. She had been considering ordering room service, or looking in the minibar for some snacks, but as she pulled the comforter over herself and laid her head against the pillow, she felt the call of sleep.

 

She woke from a dreamless slumber to a pounding on her door.

“Blondie, open up.” She groaned, rolling over, taking a moment to get her bearings. “I have clothes and coffee.” Clarke leapt out of bed, immediately pulling the door open just enough to see Anya.

“Give.”

“Well, either she can’t operate without coffee or loves clothing.”

Clarke glared and snatched the coffee away from the vampire. She also reached out and picked up the bag of clothing, somewhat tentative.

“We tried to imitate what you had been wearing, had to guess your sizes.” Clarke had already turned away, peeking in the bag as she allowed the door to close. After a gulp of the nearly scalding coffee, she riffled through the clothing. It was pretty much just black jeans and simple shirts. After changing into new clothing, deciding to gloss over whether the vampires buying her underwear was weird or not and just be grateful, she stretched and pulled on her leather jacket after wiping it down with a wet paper towel. It wasn’t ideal, but she was clean, she had clean clothes and she felt better than she had in days.

She hesitantly ventured down to the hotel breakfast, uncertain if Anya and Lexa were waiting in their room, which Clarke realized she hadn’t been paying attention to. She hoped that they found her when they wanted to. Luckily, it didn’t come to that, she found them sitting at a table sipping coffee, looking for all the world like human sisters on vacation. Human sisters nursing a hangover on vacation, she amended, noting the sunglasses. Clarke made her way towards the buffet.

“Okay,” she said, setting down her plate, “What happens now? Also, are you okay being out right now?”

“We’ll be fine,” Anya brushed her off, “We’re tougher than a few sunbeams. Besides, it’s a rather gray day.”

“How are you feeling, Clarke” Lexa asked, seemingly ignoring her questions. Clarke huffed and took a bite of eggs.

“I’m fine, a shower and a night’s sleep in a real bed did me well.” She said, relenting, “Now, are you going to tell me what the plan is?”

“We were hoping that you would be able to answer that.” Oh, right. They were going to escort her back.

“Well, I live in Washington DC,” Clarke said, leaning back with a sigh, “I suppose we should start moving that way? How do you usually travel?” Lexa and Anya shared an uncomfortable look.

“Before…” Lexa began, gathering the words, “I often had a car take me where I needed to go, or I would drive myself. Running if it were a short distance. Now, the first option doesn’t seem viable, neither does running. Anya, do you still have a car?”

“Yeah, I totally have a car in this very city where I expected to need a car because we would have a human with us.” Anya drawled.

Clarke instinctively reached for her phone, then realized that she no longer had it. In fact, she no longer had most of her typical essentials. That was less than ideal. “Okay, what about the train?” She said, “I’d look it up on my phone, but the whole prisoner thing put a damper on that.”

“I’ll ask the concierge.” Anya stood, striding purposefully into the hotel lobby. Clarke settled back in her seat and sipped her coffee.

“So,” she said, after waiting a few minutes and growing impatient, “Are you going to tell me who that Nia woman was?”  
Lexa dropped her head into her hands, seeming to contemplate the question before looking up dejectedly. “Nia is the queen of my people. In a sense, at least.” Clarke tilted her head, waiting for Lexa to continue. “I would not say that she came into power through legitimate means.” The vampire sighed, “We should head up to one of the rooms, this is not something I want to discuss in public.” Clarke nodded and followed her as they made their way up to the room Lexa and Anya had shared the night before.

Clarke sat in one of the padded chairs that the hotel had set up while Lexa poured a glass of— “Was that whiskey?” she asked, looking at the clock. “At 11 am?”

“My people’s story is not something I take lightly.” Lexa sat down, dropping a large cube of ice in her glass. “Our society, for simplicities sake, let’s just say vampire society, is divided into twelve clans across North America, with territories mostly within the continental US. I am from Trikru, the tree clan, don’t ask me why we were named that, it is truly lost to history. A few decades ago, the Trikru chose a leader—we called her commander—to lead our people after the previous one had died. She was of a new mind, choosing to try and unify all of the clans. She thought that with closer connections between the clans, we could create a more stable society; her final goal was to create a society symbiotic with the humans with whom we’ve always been at odds.”

“That’s amazing,” Clarke said, eyes wide at the idea. “She sounds like a good leader.”

“I’d like to think she was.” Clarke noted the past tense. “She was on the path to success. A few years ago, she managed to finalize her control over all twelve clans. There was still resistance, and change in our society takes a long time to develop, far longer than it should. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I think there was a dip in organized vampire activity against humans after she established control. However, it did not last. There were dissenters. Chief among them, Nia, and the Ice Nation.

“The Ice Nation territory is just north of here, most of the eastern US above New York City is under their domain, as is a good chunk of eastern Canada. Their name is quite apt, with regard for the climate of their territory. Prior to the rise of the Commander, they had a queen. The Commander, though she held power over all of the clans, allowed local leadership to remain as it was, and so Nia, who has been the queen of the Ice Nation for nearly a century, still held her power. The Ice Nation held some of the greatest dissenters to the coalition. Cruelty is common among their people, fostered by Nia who holds power through fear. Naturally, such customs did not sit well with the Commander.

“About two years ago, Nia staged a coup. She quietly dispatched the Commander’s allies in the council of the twelve clans, replacing them with her own supporters, and poisoned the Commander in her sleep, capturing her. Many tried to fight, and they were captured or killed.”

“I guess that answers my question of what you did to get into that cell.” Clarke said, trailing off, missing the way Lexa’s head snapped up. “You support the Commander, so I’m guessing you were one of the ones who was captured?”

“I was.” The glass of whiskey was mostly empty, and Lexa downed the rest of it while Clarke watched.

“This actually explains a lot.” Clarke mused, “Recently, I’ve noticed a spike in attacks on humans. I had assumed it just had to do with avoiding Ark territory, but this makes sense. For a while, it seemed that most attacks were from fledglings: random and violent. Recently though, I’ve seen some truly chilling examples of vampire activity.”

Lexa nodded, staying quiet. Clarke stood, pacing back and forth in the room, trying to sort through all of this information.

“Wait so this Commander,” she began, “you say she seemed to want peace? Stability and symbiosis with humans?”

“Not seemed, that was her goal.”

“That sounds almost too good to be true.” At the look Lexa shot her, she clarified, “I said almost. My entire life, I’ve been trying to protect my people. Protect humanity from the threat of vampires. If I’m being entirely honest, I can’t fault you for what you do. You gotta eat, right? But at the same time, I can’t simply sit by and let my family die. But this… If what you say about this Commander woman is true, then we could truly have peace.” Clarke’s voice grew reverent, eyes glazing over as she thought of the possible future. Of course, there was the small matter of her mother. She dropped back into the chair. Peace may have to wait. “Then again, there are quite a few obstacles.”

“It’s okay Clarke, this isn’t your battle.” Lexa said, “We have more pressing concerns at this moment.” She nodded, looking up as the door opened.

Anya entered the room, dropping an envelope onto the coffee table before collapsing onto one of the beds. “Three tickets to DC, we leave tomorrow evening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this is late, and also that it is so short.
> 
> I dropped a good bit of exposition here, and I'm probably going to go out tonight, so I decided to cut it off and upload what I had.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the comments and kudos. I truly enjoy reading your thoughts and reactions, along with your theories of my plans. And for a sneak peek at tomorrow's chapter, let me just say that we'll be getting into the matter of the Ark, Clarke's "family," and seeing the human side of things.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Four

They spent the next couple of hours running necessary errands. Clarke tried to convince the bank to give her a new copy of her bank card, but she naturally didn’t have her ID. After arguing with the teller for almost thirty minutes, Lexa and Anya dragged her away, assuring that they had sufficient funds to cover her until she was able to get home. They returned the clothing that Clarke hadn’t fit into, and did some clothes shopping to prepare for the next few days. As strange as it felt for Clarke to let someone else pay for her things, it felt somewhat nice to be pampered to some extent. They were leaving the mall with clothing along with a backpack for Clarke when she groaned.

“This backpack is just making me realize how little I have in the way of equipment.” She sighed as they walked down the street. “I guess I could just stop off at the safe house, maybe there’s some extra stuff lying aroun—wait, no, shit. I guess I can’t do that anymore.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, trying to work through her annoyance. She had forgotten how convenient it was when she was in the Ark, and how much she was at a disadvantage now that she was out of her territory.

“Safe house?” Anya questioned, tense, “Like for the Ark?”

“Yeah,” Clarke said with resignation, “I guess I just forgot that I don’t get their luxuries anymore.”

“You left.” Lexa wasn’t asking a question, “You said as much in the—earlier. Why? Isn’t it easier to work among them?”

“Their leader and I,” Clarke neglected to mention just who that leader was. Or rather, who that leader was to her. Lexa had seemed to be holding something back when talking about the Commander, it was only fair that Clarke kept her own secrets. “We had, have, differing opinions.” She decided that it was only fair she offer some insight into Ark politics after what Lexa had told her. “They are just so… Archaic is probably the best word. Everyone in the covenant is so backwards in their approach. Everything is black and white to them, there isn’t any room for dissent or progress. That commander you were telling me about,” Clarke gestured at Lexa, missing the look Anya shot her as she was lost in her thoughts, “the Ark wouldn’t accept her. Even if she did decrease the danger of vampires, hell, even if she could guarantee total elimination of any danger, the Ark would probably try to kill her anyway.” She gritted her teeth, “So, I left. I took my unit with me, and a few others who agreed. If I’m being entirely honest, I’m not sure that we left things on amicable terms. I’m probably just as bad as you are now.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke.” Lexa said, but she seemed tense.

“I’m not.” Clarke paused, realizing that she’d spoken without thought. “Well, I am sorry that they do not want progress. But I’m not sorry that I left. Can we go back to the hotel? I think I’m still a bit drained.” Anya snorted. “No pun intended.” The others agreed.

Once back at the hotel, Clarke dropped onto the bed, falling into a fitful sleep. At around nine or ten, she awoke. A nocturnal schedule still ingrained in her internal clock. After years of hunting nocturnal vampires, you end up adopting their sleep schedule. She guessed that a few days in prison weren’t enough to break that. When she knocked on Anya and Lexa’s door, she wasn’t surprised to find them awake. She was, however, surprised when Anya decided that they were going out to get drinks. She was even more surprised when Lexa agreed, the vampire simply hadn’t seemed the type. Surprised, but not displeased. A night out at a club or bar sounded like just the thing Clarke needed. A stiff drink wouldn’t hurt either. Or twelve.

She retired to her room to change into more apt clothing but realized that she didn’t have much. She’d have to just keep up the grunge look she’d had going lately. Not that she was complaining. As much as Clarke missed dressing up, wearing a fancy dress or a short skirt, she’d always felt a bit out of place. A more practical getup suited her more. Particularly these days, when work was all she really had. So, she just changed into fresh clothes. A low cut white shirt, leather jacket, combat boots, and black skinny jeans. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone, she thought, looking at herself in the mirror. But then, why did she wish she had something flashier to wear. She pushed the thought aside as she heard a knock.

What she had not been prepared for, was the idea that Lexa and Anya were dressing up. Lexa stood at her door, hands in her pockets, Anya flanking her right side. She had changed out of casual clothing, and gone was the long black overcoat. Clarke’s eyes trailed over the pressed white button-up shirt, noting the undone buttons and rolled up sleeves. Lexa wore black slacks and polished black shoes and the outfit just oozed prestige and power. She stood, arms crossed, idly drumming her fingers against her bicep. Clarke did not like to admit how much it was working for her. She cut off that train of thought. They were barely working together; she didn’t trust Lexa as far as she could throw her; now was not the time.

“So, where are we going?” She asked, deciding it was time she get out of her own head. Apparently, Anya knew of a place that was reputably “pretty good.” As soon as they arrived, Clarke understood. It wasn’t necessarily obvious that it was a vampire bar, it’s just that she had been spending days with only vampires on top of the fact that she had categorical knowledge about recognizing them. The bar was dimly lit, candles strewn across most surfaces to add to the almost romantic ambiance of the bar. The décor was too dark for Clarke’s taste, mahogany and black leather, some crimson and deep purple here and there. However, the scene that lay within made her fingers itch to draw it. The smoky room with quiet patrons, each holding a dark menace to their gaze as they turned to face her Anya and Lexa. Their gazes swept over Anya, some of them locked on Lexa, but most were staring at Clarke. Well, if they were trying to keep the nature of the bar covert, they were doing a bad job of it.

In lieu of the reaction they likely expected, Clarke simply flashed a smile and sauntered up to the bar leaning her elbows on the dark polished counter.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked, wiping down a glass. Clarke glanced her over and smirked as she skimmed the menu. One item caught her eye.

“Wow, a blessed tequila shot.” She said, “What does that mean?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

The bartender, who Clarke could recognize wasn’t a vampire, poured a shot, spoke a few words over it, and slid it to Clarke. “Here, it’s on me.” She winked. So, she was a witch of some kind. Sure the blessing was obviously mostly for show, but Clarke had little doubt that throwing it in the face of one of the patrons would cause an unpleasant rash.

“Thanks…”

“Niylah.” The girl said, tucking her dark blonde hair behind her ear.

“Thanks Niylah.” Clarke said with a wink before downing the shot. It was damn good tequila, and she smirked before taking the offered lime wedge and sucking it between her teeth. She realized that while she had been… preoccupied, Anya had been saying something. Turning around she saw the older vampire staring down any patron who looked at Lexa the wrong way. Niylah seemed to notice as well.

“Hey, you all know the rules.” She called out, “nobody cares who you are here, so you’d better give them the same respect.”

Anya and Lexa had moved to stand next to Clarke, one on each side. Lexa seemed to be standing closer than usual, and Clarke wondered if there was any reason to the proximity. She shot Lexa a smile anyway and turned back to Niylah to order once she was done with Anya.

“Appreciated.” The older vampire was saying, “Never seen you here before. Luna around?”

“Back in California.” The bartender ignored the comment about herself. Anya nodded before ordering a glass of whiskey. Lexa had the same, and Clarke ordered a sapphire mule. The place looked classy enough to stock a decent ginger beer, and she hoped she was correct. When she made her way to sit at one of the bar stools, both Lexa and Anya urged her to sit at the end, against the wall with the two vampires as a buffer. Clarke scoffed, somewhat uncomfortable with the bodyguard treatment, but she also realized that she was in a bar filled with primarily vampires, without any weapons. Perhaps the bodyguard treatment was warranted.

As the night wore on, Clarke found herself chatting amicably with both Lexa and Niylah periodically. She learned that the bar had a specialty drink which made it particularly popular among the regular ‘patrons’ called “Sang du Nuit” which Clarke was pretty certain was a pun. When Anya ordered it, she received a wine glass that didn’t seem all that remarkable, but from the look on her face, Clarke knew what it contained. Lexa stuck to whiskey and scotch for most of the night, before switching to wine and then water in the early hours of morning. Clarke learned that Niylah was a damn well-trained bartender, with an impressive handle on cocktails. If she had been a guy, maybe in San Francisco, Clarke would have almost expected her to use the word “mixologist” from how well versed she seemed to be in liquor.

The woman led Clarke through a variety of drinks, explaining the history and flavour profiles that each drink presented. Niylah seemed to spend most of the night at Clarke’s end of the bar, smiling and Clarke found it nice to be talking to someone who was just on the edge of normal.

“So when my mother found out I had a talent for the arcane,” Niylah was saying, “she decided to send me to work with Luna and the coven serving her.”

“So, do all of the clans have covens?”

“No, not all. Floukru do, and definitely Trikru, I haven’t been around to any of the others though. I doubt Azgeda have any, their too elitist, think witches are ‘abominations.’”

“Harsh.” Clarke smirked.

“Niylah, you should be more careful.” Lexa interjected. “Speaking ill of Nia publicly can only bring you trouble, especially now.”  
“Oh like you’re one to talk.” Niylah quipped, “Don’t think I don’t know who you are. Nobody here talks. That’s the whole point.”

“That’s enough.” Anya growled.

“Lexa, what does she mean?”

After a beat, both Lexa and Niylah turned to her, “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s not important”

Clarke narrowed her eyes, but she was quite a few drinks in, and willing to let it slide. “So, is this place like a safe haven for you guys? A place hidden from Nia or something?”

“We probably shouldn’t talk about it, that only brings danger, but something like that.” Niylah explained.

“Luna, who is the elected leader of Floukru, the clan in California as you’ve heard,” Lexa explained, “She established this bar in alliance with Trikru. It works as a place of asylum of sorts. The rules of the place are simple. You can come here to drink, sometimes spend a day, or night, in one of the available rooms, and be on your way. Any allegiances or preconceptions are left at the door. It helps that the place is a well-kept secret.”

“Sounds great,” Clarke agreed, “but unsustainable. I mean, anybody who establishes themselves as a patron can just sell their secrets any time they want.”

“In a human world,” Niylah said, “Maybe, but these ones are long lived enough to hold grudges.”

Clarke's eyes widened in recognition. So betrayal was often more dangerous than the payout. With the lifespans of vampires, it seemed that pissing off the wrong person was inadvisable. She had never recognized that social difference, and suddenly their structure clarified.

“Oh,” she said, “I see.”

“It’s self-policing for the most part.” Anya grinned, “many of our systems have that effect. Not all, of course, but it’s better to create policy that maintains itself.”

Clarke nodded thoughtfully, wondering if it were possible to redesign Ark law. She shook her head, of course it wasn’t, she wasn’t even a member anymore. But without a proper method of policy enforcement, even in her small team, she needed to develop ways of keeping them in line. Well, she hoped she didn’t, but she couldn’t help to be one for contingencies.

“Enough about work,” Clarke smiled lazily, “Niylah, how did you get into bartending?”

“Not really getting away from work, Clarke. But mixing drinks is just a natural step away from alchemy,” she smiled, “And Luna needed someone to watch the bar while she maintained control in California. As much as she seems to want to spend all of her time here, I don’t think it would be good for her. I wasn’t particularly necessary in her coven, so I could be spared.”

Clarke frowned at the statement, “I’m sure you were valuable.” She said.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Niylah laughed, “I actually like it better here. I chose to work here full time a year ago.”

“Well, I must say that it’s lovely here.” Clarke grinned, “maybe I should come visit some time.”

“I’d like that.” Niylah said, leaning over the bar. She grabbed Clarke’s hand, scribbling on it with a pen. “If you’re ever in town,” she winked, “Give me a call.”

Clarke smirked at her, downing the rest of her drink and getting up to leave with Lexa and Anya. If the situation had been any different, maybe she would have been more overt in her advances. Oh, who was she kidding, if she was in her hometown she would probably have gone home with Niylah. As it was, it just didn’t feel apt. When she got back to the hotel, the gray light of morning beginning to filter through the city, she washed her hands off before knocking on Lexa and Anya’s door. She noticed Lexa’s eyes flit down to her hand when she opened the door, and Clarke felt a smile tug at her lips. What was going on with her? Lexa stepped to the side, invitation implicit. Clarke curled into the comfortable armchair across from Lexa’s bed.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said, smiling into her knees, “It was nice to see how you guys live your lives. I—I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be the same.” Lexa sat on her bed, looking at Clarke. “Before meeting you, I never really thought about vampires that much. Okay, well I thought about them all the time, but in a clinical way. I never thought about the fact that you actually, I don’t know, went out for drinks. I never really considered how you have lives, or un-deaths. Whatever.” She smiled wryly. “Don’t get me wrong. I won’t be changing professions or anything. I still have people to protect. But, I’m glad I’ve seen the other side. And maybe there is a way that we can protect both sides.”

Lexa’s eyes shone, and it warmed Clarke in a way she’d never felt before. To think she’d ever thought vampires could only be cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! This weekend has been very busy. I got a lovely bottle of tequila, and you know how that goes...
> 
> Anyway, I'd planned on writing a mammoth chapter for tomorrow as penance, but I reached the end of this, and it felt like such a proper place to cut it off. Now don't worry, I'll be uploading at the end of the day as well, and I plan on making the chapter a long one, if not Monday's then Tuesday's chapter will be quite the behemoth. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments and just for reading in general. As you may know, we writers live off of your appreciation. Trust me, without kudos, I wouldn't eat ;)


	5. Five

Clarke felt a hand shaking at her shoulder, rousing her from the realm of dreams. She groaned, batting away the hand but it came back.

“Clarke,” Lexa was saying, “Wake up, we have to go catch the train.” She turned her head away, eyes refusing to open.

“Hey, Blondie,” Clarke felt a tug at her legs. She only managed to get halfway through realizing what was happening before she was on the floor. “Time to get up.”

Clarke opened her eyes, noting that she was not, in fact, by her bed in her own hotel room, but next to the chair in Anya and Lexa’s. Well, that answered the question of why her neck was sore. She was wrapped in a comforter, which was new, and she noted that Lexa’s bed was missing one. She tugged it tighter around her and glared up at Anya in petulant rebellion.

“Oh come on,” She groaned, “You’re already awake. Don’t you want to go home?”

Clarke sighed, relenting as she stood up and stretched, popping her joints. Her head swam ever so slightly at she stood, and she sighed.

“Okay, but I need some coffee.” She sighed, “Niylah was definitely not pouring singles.”

Anya only smirked at her, handing her a to go cup. Clarke sipped at it and hummed in contentment.

“Let me just go grab my backpack and we can go.” But as she spoke Lexa raised her arm, the aforementioned backpack dangling on a finger. Clarke grunted and snatched it away. “Fine, okay. Let’s go then.”

The walk to the train station was quiet, but not uncomfortable. The cool evening air did wonders for Clarke’s mild hangover. As did the coffee. They boarded without issue, and soon enough, the train was moving. Lexa seemed content to sit back and watch the landscape pass, but Anya leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

“So, we’re entering your turf now, blondie.” Clarke nodded. “What’s your plan?”

“There are equipment caches across the city,” Clarke explained, “There should be one near the station. If my team hasn’t done anything drastic, it’ll have wallets for each of my team along with a couple burner phones for situations like these. Possibly a few weapons, maybe a vehicle, it really depends on the movements that my people have been making while I was gone. If we’re lucky, there will be an extra earpiece for our communications channel, but that is unlikely. If there is one, I’ll need to have words with my team about security.”

Anya grinned at that, leaning back and seeming satisfied. Clarke was left to her own thoughts as Anya pulled out a newspaper. She pressed her forehead against the glass of the window, peering into the dark that lingered just beyond the cool barrier. She wasn’t sure if she should have felt bad or not. Her team had lost her when she was captured, they probably had assumed the worst, or tried to rescue her. Seeing how far they were from where she was captured, Clarke guessed that her team had either given up or would be regrouping and developing a plan this evening. She wondered how they were faring without her guidance.

Clarke knew that she wasn’t really the leader of her team. She was probably one of the most mature among them, and definitely could beat most of them in a fight, but she wasn’t the leader. And yet, in times of crisis, it always seemed to fall on her shoulders to guide them out of it. Sometimes she wondered just what would happen if they had a crisis and she simply stepped back. She guessed now she was going to find out, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Her mind wandered to the idea of the commander. She would have held power over many groups who were previously autonomous, groups that very much didn’t want to give up their power. Clarke wanted to protect the others; she’d always been too caught up wanting to be sure they didn’t see her like her mother to realize how rag-tag they had been.

Considering the vampire queen, Clarke wasn’t so sure that their uncoordinated assault on vampire kind was going to work out in their favour. If they wanted to keep their lives, they probably needed to unify and to develop a cohesive team. Clarke knew that eventually, they would all push the responsibility on her, but the question was who would do it willingly. Clarke shook her head against the glass. This wasn’t the time to plot taking control of their group, she had to focus on getting back to them first. She closed her eyes, trying to remember the layout of the city near the station at which they were disembarking. The steady rumble of the train lulled her into a haze, tuning out anything but the vibrations running through the cool glass pressed against her forehead. Clarke almost didn’t notice when they finally pulled into their stop.

Still somewhat dazed, she pulled her backpack over a shoulder and waved at Anya and Lexa to follow her as she made her way into the city. Breathing in the air, she smiled, it smelled different; like home. She hardly even noticed her lips pulling up into a smile.

“Alright, this way.” She said, jogging slightly towards the supply garage. “Have you guys ever been to DC?”

Lexa and Anya shared a look. “A few times.” Lexa said. Anya only nodded. They strode down the streets, Clarke happy to set the pace knowing how quickly the other two could move. The supply cache, when they reached it, was really just a storage unit. Clarke typed in the key code and dragged the garage door up, eyes lighting up as she realized what was inside.

“I’d forgotten you were here,” She said, stepping into the crate and running her fingers idly over shiny black metal, “I guess I’ve been neglecting you, huh?”

“Who’re you talking to, blondie?” Anya said stepping around the corner, Lexa in tow. Both of their eyes widened as they noticed the object of Clarke’s attention. She was crouched down, examining the shiny black motorcycle parked in the center of the storage crate. Clarke was too busy checking that everything was in order to pay attention to the two vampires. When Anya’s hand landed on her shoulder, she jumped. “You done eye fucking a motorcycle?”

“It’s not just a motorcycle.” She snapped, mouth open to launch into a tirade.

“Yeah, yeah. Get your stuff and we can get going.”

Clarke’s mouth snapped shut, and she turned away to gather any equipment she needed immediately. She grabbed a few silver knives, sticking one in her boot and another on the inside of her jacket. For good measure, she grabbed two stakes as well, discretely slipping them into the inner pockets of her leather jacket. She wasn’t really planning on using any of it before returning to headquarters, but she felt a lot more comfortable with a few weapons on her. She’d have to wait to get a gun, as nothing in the crate was to her preference.

“I can take one of you on the back of the motorcycle if you like,” she said, turning back to the vampires. Anya held her hands up, backing up slightly.

“No thanks, I’d rather run.” She said, “or drink holy water.” Clarke’s eyes narrowed at her, then she turned to Lexa.

“So, Lexa, you wanna be my bitch for the night?” She grinned.

Lexa’s eyes widened. Anya smirked. Clarke, after a moment of confusion, realized what she had said. Her jaw hung slack for a moment as her cheeks flushed.

“Uh, I mean, I—um, like the expression?” she stuttered, “You know, riding bitch on a motorcycle. Do you want to ride bitch with me? I—um, okay, but like…” She was stumbling over her words trying to explain, paused for a moment to take a breath, then tried again. “Do you want,” She said slowly, “To ride on the back of the motorcycle?”

Anya snickered as she elbowed Lexa, who shook her head as if lost in thought. “I—uh, sure.” She said after a moment. Clarke shook off the embarrassment and smirked at the other two.

“Alright then, now that that’s settled,” She said, “let’s get going. Anya, how will you run through the city without being seen?”  
“Rooftops.”

“Oh. Got it.” Clarke handed a helmet to Lexa before pushing one over her head, blonde curls spilling out the bottom. She flipped down the visor and walked the bike out of the storage container and closed the door, a beep telling her that it locked. She straddled the bike, looking over at Lexa as she revved the engine. “You coming?”

The ride to the headquarters was relaxing. Well, at least it was for Clarke. From Lexa’s crushing grip around her waist, she could only assume that the vampire had never ridden a motorcycle before. Clarke had to tap her fingers against Lexa’s arms a few times during the ride when she could almost feel her bones creak under the strain, it happened more often when she wove through traffic, so she tried to avoid it, at least a bit. She had to have fun somehow, didn’t she? She’d missed riding her bike in the past few days, and she’d missed riding this one in particular. More recently, she’d been riding more of her cruiser bike, but this sportier one was really a fun ride. It might have been a bit less comfortable for Lexa, but Clarke also knew that her Harley was somewhere in the woods near where she was captured. Damn, that was another thing on her to-do list.

Clarke hesitated as she pulled up to the building where she and the others based their operations. On one hand, Anya and Lexa had protected her, paid her way, and given her an intimate look into their lives. On the other, they were vampires and she was about to lead them to the base of people sworn to kill them on sight. People who, knowing Anya, might die if they tried that. She was banking on the idea that the others would trust her. This was a very bad idea. She punched in the code to the garage panel as Anya jumped down from the roof, landing gracefully. Typical. Clarke pushed her bike into the garage, noting the vehicles that were present, and those that were missing. She was surprised to spot her Harley in the corner of the garage dedicated to Raven. She smiled at the sight.

Pulling out her keys, she slotted them into the door, looking back at Anya and Lexa, “Just follow my lead, and don’t be rash. They might be a bit,” She paused to consider her wording, “Suspicious at first. I’ll vouch for you.” She took a deep breath and swung the door open, calling out, “Honey, I’m home!”

Before she could even finish the sentence, a bundle of muscle, brown hair and hazel eyes slammed into her chest, wrapping arms around her. “Clarke!” she heard, muffled into her chest. When Octavia pulled back, Clarke pulled her in for a proper hug, noting her red eyes. “I thought you were dead.” She other girl mumbled into her neck.

“I’m not that easy to kill, O.” Clarke said, pulling back. “I missed you. But I’m back.”

Clarke looked up into the living room, seeing Raven lounging on the couch with her feet on the coffee table. The girl raised her cup at Clarke, looking nonchalant as usual, but Clarke could see the slight waver in her smile.

“What’s all the noise about?” A deep voice called as Bellamy made is way around the corner with Lincoln in tow. His eyes widened, rushing Clarke and pulling her into a crushing hug. “Princess!” he practically yelled in her ear, “thank god, you’re okay. You are okay right?” he asked putting her down and backing away carefully to look her over, “Are you hurt? God, you must be starving.” As he fussed over her, he seemed to remember something and reaching into his pocket. “Oh, and this is yours. We found it when we found the site of your fight.” He pressed her father's watch into her hand and Clarke nearly teared up at the sight. She’d thought it was gone for good.

Jasper and Monty ran into the room as well, yelling “Clarke’s back!” and hugging one another before rushing her, then stepping back apologetically and moving aside.

“Ye of little faith,” Clarke said, but unable to keep the smile off her face. “Did you really think I’d go down that easily?” But as the euphoria of the moment waned, a tension settled in the room.

“Clarke,” Bellamy growled, stopping his fussing, “Who are your friends.” His hand was laid on the gun at his waist. Monty and Jasper were backing away nervously while Octavia pulled her sword from where it laid against the wall. Raven was on her feet, gun trained on Anya. Lincoln just stood looking shocked, staring at Lexa, mouth agape. Clarke stepped protectively in front of them, choosing not to pull a knife, as much as she itched to do so.

“Stand down,” She barked, “They saved me.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy said, “you’ve been compelled, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I haven’t, and I do.” She said, voice low. “How fucking dare you assume that I don’t know what I’m doing. I was starved in a cell for two and a half days before escaping with these two. They fed me, clothed me, and saved my life countless times. They made sure I got back here safely, and you have the goddamn nerve to threaten them!” by the end, Clarke was practically yelling.

“Clarke, you can’t be sure. They’re controlling you.”

“Always underestimating me, fine.” Clarke growled, snapping her father’s wristwatch on, the cool silver pressing against her skin. She held up her wrist. “Look, I’m wearing my father’s watch. You remember what it’s for, right?” She stepped forward. It was Raven who spoke up, lowering her gun slightly.

“Jake had it specially made.” She said, “Not only is it silver, but it’s enchanted to resist compulsion. If Clarke can wear it, then she’s lucid.”

“But how do we know we can trust them,” Bellamy spat, gesturing at Lexa and Anya. “They’re _vampires._ For all we know, they’re here to kill us.”

“If I wanted to kill you, boy,” Anya growled, the room dropping temperature rapidly, “You would already be dead. So would blondie, and little Xena there…”

“Anya.” Clarke snapped, “Let me handle him.” Lexa shot Anya a look and the room returned to its normal temperature, the vampire standing down. “Listen, you all remember why we left Ark, right?” She said, looking around.

“Your bitch of a mother?” Octavia growled, but Clarke knew it wasn’t aimed at her.

“Okay, well besides that.” She implored. When the others shuffled their feet, she plowed on. “Because of their essentialist outlook. They saw only black and white. They were the good guys, anything that didn’t fit into their definition of normal was evil. You know what they did to Lincoln.” She said, gesturing at the big man, or not so man, “he was trying to live a normal life, quarantining himself when he had to turn. But because he’s a werewolf, they went after him.” Clarke looked at the other hunters around her. “We can’t be like them. We can’t just assume that all vampires are bad. The real world is a lot more complicated than that. Dammit, even vampire politics is a lot more complicated than we thought.” Clarke could tell that her words were having an effect, so she kept going.

“Until recently, the vampires had a leader they called the Commander. She was for peace and symbiosis between vampires and humans. Between anybody. She unified most of the vampires in the US under her control and was aiming for peace. She was overthrown by this bitch of a queen, Nia. Lexa was imprisoned for supporting this Commander.” At that, Clarke noticed Lincoln blink in shock. That was curious, but she didn’t have time to pay attention to it. “Listen, this Commander is still imprisoned, but it shows that there are those in among the vampires who aren’t just mindless killers, or evil incarnate. So we can’t just keep acting that way. That would make us no better than the Ark.”

“But how do we know that’s even true?” Bellamy spoke out and Clarke sighed. “I’m guessing it was one of them who told you that, wasn’t it? And besides, I think your anecdote just proves the opposite. The vampires had their chance at peace with this commander, but they have this Nia instead.”

“Bellamy, don’t be an idiot.” Clarke was relieved to see Octavia put down her sword and knock her brother on the back of his head. But what surprised her was when Lincoln spoke up.

“It’s true.” He said, “I can vouch for them.” When all eyes turned to look at him, he continued. “I wasn’t always in hiding, just in the last few years. After I was turned, I spent time among the Trikru vampire clan. They took me in, taught me how to control myself. But I openly supported the Commander, and when Nia took control, I ran. I recognize Lexa and Anya from when I was with Trikru.”

“Convenient that you only ment— “

“Bellamy, I swear to god, another word and I’ll blow your fucking brains out myself.” Raven interjected. “Good to have you back, Princess. And a pleasure to make the acquaintance of these fine ladies.”

“Step off.” Anya growled.

“Sure, I see your game,” Raven winked.

“Raven.” Clarke warned.

“Oh hush, Griffin, you can’t lay claim to both of them.”

“Lay claim? Reyes…” Clarke let the rest of her threat go unsaid. “By the way, I need a new gun.”

“Nope!” Raven said happily, “When we got your dad’s watch, we managed to pick up most of the things you dropped.”

“I didn’t drop them.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She said, walking out of the living room, “Be right back!”

“Come on in,” Clarke turned to Lexa and Anya, ignoring Raven, “Sit down, can I get you a drink?”

“Nothing you serve here, blondie.” Anya drawled, dropping onto the couch and lounging in it.

“No, thank you, Clarke.” Lexa said as she took a seat next to Anya far more gingerly. She seemed somewhat uncomfortable, but Clarke couldn’t figure out why. When Raven walked back into the room, she was holding a shoebox.

“You’re damn lucky you didn’t lose this because it took me way too long to make the first time,” Raven said, handing Clarke the shoebox. “While you were out, I made some tweaks.”

Clarke’s eyes shone while she opened the shoebox to see her gun nestled in a bed of crumpled newspaper. She reverently picked it up, dropping the box and grinning. “I missed you.” She said, probably too loudly, holding it carefully. The gun was as much a weapon as a piece of art. “So, what’d you improve. You know what, don’t tell me, I’d like to find out myself.” She picked up an extra magazine and stuck it inside of her jacket, sticking the gun in the back of her waistband.

“Sure Griff,” Raven said, patting her on the back. “You’re one crazy motherfucker.”

“Thanks Reyes.” She smiled but it dropped when she noticed that she had yet to see a member of their group. “Wait, where’s Finn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, here's this chapter. I might be able to upload again later today, depending on a few factors. But that does mean I'm going to be writing a lot this evening, so tomorrow will likely be a longer chapter than usual. I know I've been promising that for a while, these early exposition heavy chapters are harder to get through. Soon though, we will get into the real action.
> 
> I hope any of you who live in the US have voted! If not, then I'm disappointed in you. I won't promulgate my own opinions here, though, I just hope everyone's been taking part in the democratic process.
> 
> As always, I really appreciate all of the comments and kudos. Keep up the reading, and I'll keep up the writing!


	6. Six

“Shit.” Raven thumped back into an armchair. “Bell! Have we heard any news from Finn?”

“No, he’s still dark,” Bellamy said, strolling back into the living room. “Monty’s on control, so he’ll tell us if there’s any news from him.” He sat in one of the armchairs as he explained, “Finn’s been erratic since you left, and well, were captured. I mean, you just disappeared telling us you were ‘going out,’ whatever that means. Then you were gone.”

Clarke remembered. She remembered how she’d been monitoring potential vampire activity in the control room when Finn came in. She didn’t really want to think about their conversation, but she’d needed some air, then ran across some vampires.

“When we decided to take the night off to regroup, Finn kind of flipped.” Raven explained. “He ran off on his own, and he’s either turned off his phone and headset, or he’s avoiding talking to us.”

“We’d better find him before he does something stupid,” said Clarke, ignoring the desire to just relax back into her home. She shot Lexa and Anya an apologetic look and opened her mouth to suggest that they go out to look for him, but the sound of the garage door rumbling closed cut her off. She was turning to look at the door when she heard it open, but was suddenly enveloped in a tight hug from behind. Clarke tensed, uncomfortable with the sudden contact.

“Princess,” it was more of a sigh than anything, breathed into the hair on her shoulder in a tone somewhere between wistful relief and the agony of loss, “you’re back.”

Clarke shivered at the tone of his voice, pulling away from the embrace and turning to face the floppy haired boy.

“Finn.” She said, a cold statement of fact more than a greeting, “I am.” Clarke saw the boy’s eyes widen as he looked over her shoulder towards the couch. Fantastic, this again.

“And who the hell are they?” Finn growled, pulling out his gun. But Clarke was already moving, grabbing the gun with one hand and slamming the heel of her other into his wrist, pivoting to pull the gun from his hands. She pointed the gun at his head for a few seconds, waiting for him to get the message, then dropped it and kicked it backwards. “They’re fucking vampires Clarke.” Finn hissed, “Why are they here?”

“I’ve already gone over this,” She replied calmly, resigned to tedium, “I trust them, they saved me, not all vampires are evil.”

“Bullshit they aren’t.” He was fuming now, scowling over her shoulder. “You’re just compelled, it’s okay, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Finn?” Clarke growled, growing truly frustrated, “Would anybody like to explain to me why it is that when I make a decision, the first response is ‘You don’t know what you’re saying, Clarke?’”

 “Clarke,” Finn looked almost exasperated, “You’ve been gone for days, you can’t expect us to just trust you. Besides, you aren’t our leader or our boss, you’re one of us.”

“That’s right, I’m one of you.” Clarke looked around the room, seeing the other had stepping in to listen, Lexa looked uncomfortable and Anya just looked amused, “But for all intents and purposes, I have been your leader.”

“Well who made you leader?” Bellamy interjected.

“You all did when you didn’t step up. When I was the one who decided that we leave the Ark, when I was the one who freed Lincoln and helped you free Octavia. And every time since then, when you all looked to me whenever something went wrong.” Clarke looked pointedly at each of them. “I stepped up, and none of you did anything other than challenge my suggestions. So when I was taken captive, and subsequently freed I have justification for trusting my liberators, at least to some extent. If I trust them, so should all of you, because you’ve always fallen in when things get tough, and if what Lexa tells us is true, things are about to get a lot fucking tougher.”

For a moment, the others processed what she’d said, frozen in their contemplation.

“Well.” Naturally, Raven broke the silence, standing up and walking out to the garage. “You’ve got my vote, Griffin. I’m going to go work on your bike. Finn, you coming?”

Clarke’s eyes snapped up, meeting Finn’s gaze. She raised an eyebrow in question. He still hadn’t told her. Of course he hadn’t.

“Uh, yeah,” he called to Raven’s retreating back, “just give me a minute.”

Clarke sighed and decided to check on the control room. “Just give me a minute to settle in here, then we can talk, okay?” she asked Lexa, catching the vampire’s eye. “If anybody gives you trouble…” At the small smile thrown her way, she left the room. The control room, as they called it, was established in a study or spare bedroom. They’d set up a desk with two monitors, and more along the wall behind it. They did research, monitored police activity, as well as potential news about vampires from there. Monty and Raven spent most of their time in the room, though it was more often Monty. Raven worked on cars and guns most of the time. Sometimes Jasper kept Monty company while they worked. All three stayed out of the field for the most part.

“So,” Clarke turned to face Finn, who, of course, had followed her, “you didn’t tell Raven.”

“About what? You yourself said it was meaningless.”

“Yes, it was meaningless, at least it was for me,” Clarke said, slumping into the chair at the desk, “I was drunk, Atom had just died, I sought comfort, it was a mistake. You, as you so helpfully explained, weren’t as drunk as I, Finn.” Clarke tensed her jaw. He seemed to fail to understand that it mattered.

“Okay, so what if I haven’t told Raven?”

“Finn!” Clarke’s exasperation began to seep into her tone, “You two are dating, you slept with me. In fact, you were the one who made advances and I, being drunk, reciprocated; which, really is a problem of it’s own.”

“We’re not… really dating…”

“Well, she seems to think so. And with the way you’ve been acting recently, and how I’m told you acted while I was gone, I’m beginning to suspect that maybe it wasn’t just about the sex.”

“Clarke, I—”

“No, save it.” She held up her hands, stopping him mid sentence, “Look,” she sighed, seeing his defeated look, “In a different world, maybe it would have worked out between us. If you weren’t dating someone, if I didn’t have to keep all of you safe, then _maybe_ we wouldn’t be having this conversation. But here’s the thing, Finn: You made advances on me, which I reciprocated while drunk, and later regretted. I don’t know how drunk you were, but you seem to remember the night far better than I. You also have a girlfriend, who deserves to know that you cheated on her. If you won’t tell her, I will.” While she kept her voice low, by the end it held the intensity of yelling.

Finn set his jaw, glaring at her for a moment but turned and left anyway. Clarke let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She relaxed back in the desk chair, putting her feet up on the metal table they used as a desk. She was eyeing the screens when a quiet knock tore her away.

“Sorry to disturb you,” it was Lexa, “but I was wondering what your intentions were. Regarding myself and Anya?”

Clarke took her feet off of the desk, orienting herself to better speak with Lexa. Of course the vampire was waiting on her plans, she’d just brought them here without any thought to it. “Oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ll be wanting to go, I mean, or not, you don’t have to but if you want to then that is okay as well; I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything but you can definitely stay, I’m sure we’ll be having food sometime soon, it’s always food with these people, then again you don’t really eat—”

“Clarke. You’re rambling.”

“Right, sorry.”

“That’s quite alright.” It definitely wasn’t.

“What I meant was, how would you and Anya like to spend the night? I can take you to a hotel, but I doubt you’d like to sleep. You’re also welcome to stay here, if you like. I may spend some time on the streets, though from what I’ve heard, activity has been down. I do need to investigate this business with the… group of vampires Finn killed, you could join me if you like.” Clarke decided that nest probably wasn’t the proper term, but wasn’t sure how else to phrase it.

“I am not certain that it is wise to offer a vampire the experience of investigating the massacre of her fellows.”

“Well, Lexa, how would you solve murders without an investigation?”

“Clarke.” Lexa’s pointed look gave her pause to re-evaluate.

“Okay, fair point. We do know that Finn was the one who killed them. We do not know the rest of the situation, and I’d rather not ask him.” Clarke explained, “I doubt he’d give a straight answer.” Lexa grunted in response. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I want you to know that I’m frustrated—well, I’m fucking pissed—that he just went off on his own. Generally, we only make it our business when there is an overt threat to life in this area.”

“I understand, Clarke.” But the vampire was shifting uncomfortable, maybe it was best if they stopped this discussion. Luckily for Clarke, she smelled food, and suggested they ‘investigate’ that instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, first of all. I am so sorry that this was delayed, the reason has to do with both the election paired with the second part of this note.
> 
> Secondly, I hate this chapter. I haven't been particularly fond of a few of the chapters I've posted, but this one is by far the worst so far. I've written three iterations and each is equally terrible. The dialogue feels stilted and uncomfortable and I guess I've just been off lately. Writing has been challenging. I'm hoping to get to some of the more interesting parts of the fic in the next few chapters. I'll also try to get back to my everyday posting schedule.
> 
> Finally, as usual, I really appreciate all of the support. Even though I kind of dropped off the map, you all were still interested (and I hope that you remain that way).


	7. Seven

The low rumble of the sports bike cut off as Clarke easily dismounted. The building certainly didn’t look like much, not like a place she’d like to make her home. Then again, vampires liked to keep a low profile, and she hadn’t seen the inside. It was an old apartment building, neither big enough nor nice enough to keep up with the demands of the city. A good place to buy out and make a base of operations. Clarke skimmed her fingers over the hilt of her gun but left it nestled in the thigh holster. She was confident in her ability to draw it at a moment’s notice. She was not, however, confident that she would be needing it. The darkness served her well as she stalked towards the door to the building. She’d long since learned to hide her presence from most humans, but vampires were harder. Any in the area could very likely smell her, hear her heartbeat, her breathing. The darkness would not protect her from them.

Lexa and Anya had excused themselves from the ever growing tension in Clarke’s home earlier that night, after they’d had a hushed conversation with Lincoln in their language. When Clarke asked, worried that she’d offended them, they explained that they were going to be in the area for a few days, intending to check in with the clan in power which was sympathetic to their cause. Somehow Clarke had been disappointed to learn that they were leaving, but logically knew that it didn’t make sense for them to be spending time with her and the others. That didn’t stop the uncomfortable warmth she had felt when they assured her that they would be staying in the area for some time, and would let her know before they left. She’d convinced herself that it was good, that she wanted to keep an eye on them, and make sure that she hadn’t been duped. After they left, however, Clarke refocused, getting the address of Finn’s ‘altercation’ from him, and going out to look into it.

The door was ajar, lock broken and hinges distressed. Evidently, Finn had not been welcome but had managed to exert his ability to gain entry without invitation. Clarke ground her teeth; sometimes it really seemed that humans would do better to follow vampire custom. Granted, she didn’t think that very often, but this seemed an apt moment for reflection. The hinges creaked loudly as she lightly pressed her fingertips against the warped wood, but the door swung open. There went any remaining shred of stealth. Clarke held still for a moment, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the building. After a few moments of waiting, she began to suspect that it was simply too dark and pulled out a flashlight.

“Monty,” She spoke while opening the comm line, “What should I expect in here, it’s really fucking dark.”

“Floor plan is pretty old, so there could be renovations, but there looks to be a staircase headed down on the bottom floor, you should be in a large foyer, elevator shaft to the left, stairs just on the other side of that.”

“Yeah, that seems about right.” Clarke stalked further into the room, eyeing derelict furniture. She came upon a pile of ashes, dragging a toe experimentally through it. “Found our first casualty. Surprised it's so far into the building.”

“If you’re looking to know what happened, there might be security tapes.”

“It’s a long shot in this place, but I’ll see what I can do. Any idea where the security office would be?”

“I don’t see anything on the blueprints, but there is what looks to be a managerial office on the bottom floor.” After a beat, Monty corrected himself, “Ground floor, I mean. Basement looks like it was mostly maintenance and other things.”

“20 bucks says that’s changed.”

“No kidding.”

“Alright, as much as I’d love to find some security tapes, I’m going to do a sweep of the building first, bottom to top.” Clarke moved towards the stairwell, “I’d rather not be surprised.”

“Always the sensible one.”

“Keeping communication open, keep an ear out for me.”

“I’ll make sure to keep him in the chair, boss.” Jasper called out.

“Don’t call me that, Jas.”

“Then don’t call me Jas.”

“Touché,” Clarke was approaching the bottom of the stairs and lowered her voice, “now shut up, I need to concentrate.”

Clarke tuned out any further discussion, assuming they would turn off their microphone. Instead, she focused on any sounds beyond the landing, although it wasn’t all that helpful. Any vampires within needn’t breathe, nor would they make much noise while moving. As she presumed, the air was still and silent, unnaturally so. The door at the bottom of the stairs showed no sign of force and opened smoothly when Clarke pressed her fingers against it. The room within was clearly made into sleeping quarters, the dark of the basement providing a perfect environment for daytime sanctuary. No, the floor was not lined with coffins, there were simple bunk beds lining the walls of the room. Clarke didn’t see anybody as she swept the room with her flashlight, keeping an eye out for shapes moving in the darkness.

As she ventured further into the room, however, she noticed the piles of ash and spatters of blood. These told the story of a struggle and of extended conflict. There were ten shell casings on the floor, scattered around the room, but she knew that Finn wasn’t usually a great shot. Most of the ashes were scattered around, so she couldn’t tell just how many there had been in the conflict, but it looked to be at least three vampires against Finn. That seemed odd. Finn had never been one for conflict. It wasn’t to his aptitude, so how would he manage to face off against three vampires and make it out without significant injury? The potential answers made her blood run cold. Or perhaps that was her new company, as the telltale creak of the entrance door echoed through the room.

“Monty,” she whispered, hoping it would alert the boy, “I’ve got company.”

The handgun holstered at her hip slid easily into her hand as her flashlight clicked off. The gun had practically leapt into her hand. Using her right hand to steady it, she crept slowly up the stairs, trying to gauge who the potential threats were. What they were. Luckily, Monty had either not heard, or had understood the unspoken message and hadn’t responded. She strained her ears but couldn’t pick up any noise. Definitely not werewolves then. And it was about 50-50 on if there were humans. When she reached the top, she peeked into the foyer of the building, trying to peer into the darkness. There was a shadow in the faint light cast by the open door, but it was formless. The temperature dropped another few degrees, Clarke’s breath beginning to cloud. Definitely vampires then.

“It’s no use hiding, girl.” The voice was forcible, angry even, but it did not hold the same cruel haughtiness that Clarke had found characteristic of those who’d spoken to her when she was imprisoned. “Drop your weapon.”

“I’d rather not, thanks.” She said. Clarke flicked on her flashlight, using it to gain even ground with the predators in the room. “But I’m not here for a confrontation.”

She was definitely outgunned. There were 5 vampires standing near the door. The one nearest to the door was shorter than the others, and Clarke guessed that she had been the one who had spoken. Despite her shorter figure, she cut an imposing figure, a scowl set in her face in such a way that Clarke suspected it never left her dark features. The charcoal suit combined with her short black hair gave her an air of power and control. Definitely the leader. The three other tall burly men seemed strong, yes, but their stances deferred to the woman. If it came to a fight, she’d need to kill her first. She assessed the furniture in the room for potential cover

“Then why are you here, in our territory?” The woman spoke again, almost a growl.

“As far as I see it, most of the District of Columbia is my territory. Maybe we can share.” Clarke flashed a cheeky grin at the woman who only glowered. And yet, nobody in the room moved to instigate hostilities. “I’m here because I heard that there was a fight here, with significant casualties. I want to figure out what exactly happened. My source isn’t entirely credible.”

“Your source certainly got information quickly.”

“My source may have been involved. I’m looking to see just how deep that involvement went.”

“There were only two groups involved. My people, and a hunter, a very well equipped hunter.” The vampires had sunk into a more combative stance, and in response, Clarke loosened her own. It wasn’t much. She could be ready to fight in an instant, but she could at least broadcast her intentions. Clarke turned off her microphone, knowing that the others may not approve of her next words.

“He’s in my custody.” The vampires tensed at Clarke’s words. “Decisions regarding his fate are pending until further information has been acquired. Such acquisition is why I am here. From what I have found, at least 4 of yours are dead, one without much struggle, at least three were more complicated.” The tension seemed somewhat eased, but it was more difficult to read their leader. “From what you said, I can only assume that you have more information than I. Care to share?”

One of the men began speaking in that harsh language the Clarke had begun to recognize as a coded communication for vampires. Trigedasleng, she vaguely remembered. What a strange name. She couldn’t understand any of the words being slung back and forth, but she kept an eye on the body language of the 4 in the room who did understand.

“You, Girl,” the woman spoke, again in English, “You’re one of the Ark are you not? Your people attack on sight.”

“I have a name,” Clarke snapped, but it didn’t hold that much weight. She had the gall to say as much without any attempt to ask the others theirs. “I’m not a part of the Ark. And they might attack on sight, but right now, I’ve had a shitty few days, and I’d like to figure our just what happened here so that I can take care of it. So I ask again, as you seem privy to more information than I, care to share?”

The vampire continued to ignore her question and she grit her teeth, “He says that he saw you in Ark garb, executing a group of my people three years ago.”

“Three years is a long time.”

“So you defected?”

“When did this become an interrogation about my personal life. Are you going to tell me what you fucking know, or are we done here?” Clarke growled.

“I think it only fair that when I walk onto a property where my people were killed and find someone who knows the killer and has associated with people sworn to kill me and mine, I ask some questions.” The vampire barked.

“And I’ve damn well answered them to the extent of my patience.” Clarke turned, intent on looking around upstairs. A slight flutter in the air was her only warning before a cold hand clamped around her neck and pinned her against the wall, the vampire’s body pinning her. Or it would have been if she hadn’t drawn her knife and held it between their bodies. The vampire leader leaned against the knife as much as she could without it slicing into her.

“You dare turn your back on me?”

“First of all,” Clarke began, tapping her knife against the vampire’s abdomen, “Not that much of a threat from you, considering the fact that I can gut you with a flick of my wrist. Secondly, I am growing tired of you and this one-sided conversation. I’ve been cooperative to the extent that I am willing. I told you what I know that is relevant, and I asked if you would be so kind as to do the same. You did not, so it seems that I have to gather information on my own.” At the grunt of anger, Clarke tutted.

“Ah, you see,” she continued, “I have no intention of fighting you. However, if my hand is forced, you may not like the outcome. See, you already know that I was with the Ark. In fact, I was with them since birth. You know what kind of standards they maintain, and if you must know, I became one of the members of greater… notoriety.” She was carefully enunciating her words, lacing each with threat and anger compounded from the last few days. Weeks, really. “I was one of the few who went out to do their dirty work. You see, as much as I don’t particularly care to enter into an altercation with you, I’ve had, as I said, a rather shitty week, so I would relish the chance to take that out on someone.”

Clarke kept her eyes locked onto those of the vampire pinning her to the wall, brown shifting into red and back again. In her peripherals, she saw one of the other three shifting uneasily at her words. Interesting. Then, she was released, the vampire who had been holding her against the wall grunted with something that sounded like satisfaction, and stepped back a few paces.

“This was a location where we trained fledglings,” the woman explained. With that, Clarke’s picture clarified some. So that’s how Finn was able to overpower them. Her stomach turned at the thought. “From what my people report, what few escaped, is that a hunter, your hunter,” Clarke glared, but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t wrong. “broke in. He went downstairs, yelling questions, nonsense questions ‘where is she?’ was the primary sentiment. He started shooting, some retreated. One was shot here. More were shot upstairs. Eighteen dead or missing is what we have counted.”

Clarke reeled from the information, only barely processing the vampire’s evident rage. Eighteen. Finn had killed eighteen vampires, fledglings no less. Practically children. Unprovoked, if what the woman said was true.

“If this is true,” she began before she was cut off.

“It is.”

“ _If_ this is true, and I am inclined to believe you, then the one responsible will be held accountable. Now” She met the vampire's gaze, “I haven’t asked who you are.”

“I am the chief of this region. You mentioned that you see the District of Columbia as your territory, well as do I. I am Indra.”

Clarke stuck out her hand.  
“Indra, I’m Clarke. You already know enough about me.” Indra scorned her offered hand but gave her a silent nod instead. It would have to be good enough. “Now, I assume that means you’re of some importance in Trikru, no?” The vampires seemed surprised at her knowledge. “Yeah, I have reliable sources too. But the real question is, what are your opinions of Nia?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised!
> 
> No apologies this time around, I am much happier with this chapter than I was the last. The writing is definitely more to my style and standards.
> 
> As usual, thank you for all of your comments and kudos, especially this time around when I was feeling rather disenfranchised with the chapter. I don't want to get anybody's hopes up (though that may be presumptuous to say) but I am brainstorming another potential story, as long as this one is already intended to be. It's still very much uncertain right now, and I have a lot of world building to do before I even think about writing it, but I am going to go ahead and give you a little hint if you're interested. Two words: Space Pirates.


	8. Eight

At the mention of Nia, tension returned to the bodies of the vampires. That could be either good or bad, it told her almost nothing she didn’t already know. Nia’s name clearly carried weight, but just what it meant to these people, Clarke could not gather.

“How do you know that name?” Indra growled.

“I told you, I have my sources.” Clarke picked at her fingernails, “but if you must know, it was someone who spent time among Trikru. I don’t think I ought to give you her name, she seemed somewhat disenfranchised with your current authority.”

“I’m not sure I want to discuss my opinions of Nia before an unknown.”

“Well, I think you can guess my own opinions. I am a human, after all.”

Indra grunted. “Very well, since you remain alive, I’m sure you can guess my alignment.”

“Huh, I guess you’re right.” Clarke considered her options, “If we are both like minded, to an extent, maybe it would be beneficial to work together. Once we are done here, of course.”

One of the other vampires sneered, seemingly wanting to voice his displeasure, but Clarke kept her eyes on Indra. “I will consider it. I have half a mind to destroy you and yours for what your hunter did. He must pay.”

“All I ask is for a day to go over the information available. And believe me, he will.”

“You will turn him over to us,” Indra ordered, offering no room for opposition, but Clarke raised an eyebrow. “Bring him here, tomorrow by morning. Then we will see about your truce.”

Clarke clenched her jaw as the vampires swept from the room, making hardly a sound. A quiet motor started outside and faded away. They hadn’t given her much of a choice, but then again, neither had Finn. She had little empiric information, just hearsay from both sides. But Clarke knew who she was inclined to believe. Clarke knew who among them was prone to lying; who was proving to be unreliable. And it wasn’t the vampires, as much as she’d love to put them all in the box marked evil, she couldn’t. They were proving to be far more nuanced than she’d suspected. Damn it. She flicked her comm back on.

“Monty,” she said, “I’m coming home.”

“Got it, Clarke, see you in a few.”

“Just a heads up,” she said as she straddled her bike and pulled on her helmet, “I’m taking the long way back.”

“Alright,” came the reply, “but no fighting. We don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Clarke’s half-hearted laughter filled the street before the hum of the engine replaced it. The bike accelerated to far beyond the speed limit in seconds, a grin splitting her face. Spending some time on her bike was always a good way to clear her head. Fighting too, but Monty was right. She needed to think, not express her rage, and to do that, she needed some time. Problem was, she didn’t have that much. Just over 24 hours, or so the faint gray at the edge of the sky told her. Turning over her friend, someone who was practically family, around whom she’d spent the past 5 years, to a group of vampires did not sound appealing. She had no idea what they would do with him, but she doubted it would be good. Then again, he killed 18 of theirs. They were somewhat at war, but each kept to her own unless something drastic happened. Usually, a vampire attack would trigger a hunter response. Now, it seemed that the roles were reversed. How could Clarke blame them for wanting the same recompense she’d so often sought.

When she finally pulled back into their garage, she was shivering, and the early morning light had begun to solidify, but the sun had yet to cast its warmth upon the earth. She unsteadily slid from her bike, quietly pacing for a moment before closing the garage door and entering their home. She slumped onto the couch, dropping her legs into Octavia’s lap and eyeing whatever television program she’d been watching.

“That bad, huh?” The younger girl asked after a few moments of quietly massaging her calves.

Clarke simply groaned and dropped her head back against the armrest before sitting up, hastily unlacing and kicking off her boots before returning to her prior position.

“So, you going to talk about what happened, or are you going to sulk for a few hours, and then tell us all what happened?”

“Shut up, O” Clarke mumbled into the arm thrown across her face, “M’ sleeping.”

“Oh no, you aren’t.” Octavia pulled Clarke up. Clarke sank into the embrace of the girl who had always been like a younger sister to her. “Tell me.”

“I met more vampires,” Clarke mumbled quietly, exhaustion tugging at her eyes before she pushed it away. She sighed, “It seems we’re going to be seeing more of them.”

“I thought that was a good thing?” Octavia said carefully, “I mean, you seemed pretty friendly with those other two. Maybe a little more than friendly?” Octavia teased, nudging Clarke’s side. That woke her up.

“What? No.” Clarke shook her head furiously, “O, don’t be ridiculous, they saved my life and I spent like 5 days almost exclusively in one of the others presence. But our relationship doesn’t really go beyond that. I hardly even know who they are.”

“Alright, Clarke.”

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You used that tone that you use when you think you know better than I.”

“And don’t I always.”

“Not really.”

“Shut up, Clarke.”

Clarke smiled, leaning back and dropping to lie across the couch once more. But her smile fell when she returned to the decision she had made not long before.

“I have to turn Finn over to them.”

Octavia was alert immediately, looking at her intently. Even with Clarke’s eyes closed, she could feel the intensity of the other girl’s stare. “You What?”

“I’m turning Finn over to them.” Clarke repeated, monotonous.

“Why?” Octavia pressured, “What did he do? What are they going to do? Who are they anyway?”

“Because they deserve recompense. He killed 18 of their people, fledglings.” Octavia’s sharp intake of breath told Clarke that she understood. “I don’t know what they’ll do. And they are called Trikru; a vampire clan in power in this region. The woman I spoke to, Indra, is the leader, I think she called herself the chief, or something. After we settle this matter, she might be amenable to an alliance of sorts.”

“And is that… good?” Octavia seemed hesitant, still processing all of the information. Clark couldn’t blame her.

“Yes and no.” Clarke said, “If we can work together, great. At the same time, it will probably cost Finn his life. I don’t know if some among us can get passed that.”

“Raven.” Octavia guessed.

“Yeah.” Clarke sighed. “Me too, to some extent. I mean he’s practically family.” Octavia pulled a face. “What?”

“That’s kind of gross.”

“What is?”

“I know, Clarke.”

“Oh.” Octavia knew. About her and Finn. Somehow, it didn’t surprise her. “You didn’t tell Raven?”

“Thought Finn should do it.”

“Yeah, so did I.” She let out a humorless bark of laughter. "That didn't work out so well."

“Listen, Clarke. I’m not going to pretend I know what you should do here.” Octavia started, speaking quietly. “I mean; I’ve never been one for decisions. Hell, I probably would have gotten pissed off the moment the vampire suggested I turn Finn over. You know what, I probably wouldn’t have even gotten to that point. I’m still in Ark mode: Attack on sight, you know. I’ve followed your lead since we left the Ark, and you haven’t steered us wrong yet. I trust you, Clarke. Whatever decision you make; I’ll try to stand by you.”

“Thanks, O.”

“Anytime.”

Clarke smiled fondly, but it was interrupted by a full body yawn. “Okay, well I think that’s a sign I need some sleep.” Octavia laughed as Clarke shakily got to her feet and stumbled into her room, closing the door and barely managing to shed her clothes before collapsing onto the bed and falling into sleep. Her last thoughts of the morning about how much she had missed her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd have liked to make this longer, maybe combine it with the previous chapter, but it seemed to naturally divide in this way.
> 
> Besides, this way I can get an appropriate amount of sleep tonight.
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and Kudos. Some people are looking for more Lexa/Clexa and I'm sorry that I've been away from them for a while, but the story is currently in a place where they won't be interacting much. Within the next 2-3 chapters they'll probably get some time to talk. I hope. If anything, we will definitely get back to Anya.


End file.
